


Jason and the Bird

by systemoverride



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-20
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-20 08:29:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12428889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/systemoverride/pseuds/systemoverride
Summary: Jason picks up an interesting lil bird.Bird!Tim/Jason drabbles.





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing something with chapters. Please bear with me since I'm slow af. The things I write are played as movies/drawings in my head so there will be minor clarity edits sprinkled here and there as I try my best to translate it into words.
> 
> There is no storyline to this work. It's meant to be a fluff collection of little events between Jason and Bird!Tim.

* * *

 

 

The first rays of the sunrise streamed through the crack in the dusty curtains hung lazily over the window. As the light drew a line across the floor and onto the couch, Jason groaned and rolled onto his side, trying to block out the signs of day. He had arrived home less than three hours ago from patrol and planned on catching a nap, but the singing bird who decided to land on his windowsill wasn't having it. The past few days were uneventful. He couldn't sleep; he hadn't slept in days.

Sighing, he pushed himself off the couch and trudged over to the kitchen to fix himself a cup of coffee.  
  
Tap tap.  
  
Jason frowned. Setting down his coffee in exchange for a gun, he silently made his way towards the window.  
  
Tap tap tap.  
  
Gun's muzzle positioned carefully through the split in the curtains, he tilted his head to peer outside. Nothing. Confused, he pulled the drapes to the side and forced the old window open. A muffled squeak came from below, where the residents kept their trash for collection.  
  
"What the...?" Throwing on a hoodie and a pair of sweats, he made his way out his door and down five flights of apartment stairs. As he pulled the bags of trash out of the heap, he heard a faint fluttering of wings. It hit him, the bird. He must've knocked it off its perch when he threw the window open. Sure enough, nestled between a greasy pizza box and a crushed beer can, he found a brown mass of feathers.  
  
As gently as his tough hands could be, he cautiously lifted the bird out of the heap. Suddenly uncertain of what to do, he hesitated, standing amongst the trash. An old man wobbled past him on the sidewalk and shook his head, "Youngsters these days. I've been dumpster divin' since I was thirteen and I'm gon' tell ya, I sure as hell didn' look as stupid as ya do right now." He chuckled at his own words as a car swerved a little too close to the curb.  
  
On instinct, Jason quickly tucked the bird into his sweater pocket and lifted the old man to safety. "Better watch them curbs there, sir," he flashed a smile while setting him down, and then realized what he had been digging through earlier, "sorry about the smell."  
  
The old man gave off a hearty laugh, "Smell's nothin' compared to what ya just did, son. It's not e'ryday I get carried like a princess. My thanks to ya."  
  
He grinned and gave a casual salute, "No problem, don't want you kicking the bucket on my watch." The old man returned his salute with a tip of his fedora and hobbled off.  
  
"Goddamn, I stink."

* * *

  
Ready to take a shower to clean off the smell, Jason grabbed a towel from his bedroom and slung it over his shoulder.  
  
Chirp.  
  
He nearly tripped.  
  
"What am I going to do with you, little guy?" he murmured, lifting the offender out of his hoodie.  
  
Making a round nest on the kitchen table with his towel, he gently placed the bird into the middle and took a seat, curiously watching it climb across the folds. ' _His wing looks funny - it was probably the fall. ...I should bring him to the vet._ ' He nodded, satisfied with his plan.  
  
' _Crap, it's a Sunday. They aren't open._ '  
  
Frowning, he pulled out his cellphone. ' _Maybe the demonspawn would know what- no. Bad idea, Jason, bad idea._ '  
  
He scrolled down his contacts list -Bats and Dickie-bird were off-planet, Cass in another time zone, and Babs unavailable- his thumb stopping at Replacement. Jason let out a small sigh, ' _Well, better Tim than Damian_ ,' and he pressed dial.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Behold, the arrival of an unexpected old man.


	2. Revelation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was hard to write. I can't decide on the direction. This story was meant to be fluff but I started it off too seriously. I think I might drop it and just make it into a collection of Bird!Tim/Jason drabbles instead.
> 
> Edit: yup, it's been dropped

"Hey, you've reached Tim Drake. I'm busy right now. Don't leave a voicemail and I'll call you back when I have time. Leave a voicemail and I'll send the demonspawn. If it's urgent, call Dick. By the way, Jason, you still owe me a box of doughnuts from our bet. Three powdered, one cruller, two double chocolate, and six fall-edition pumpkin spice."  
  
Goddamn Tim and his pre-programmed voicemails. Jason couldn't help but grin at the thought of the boy, drafting up what he was going to say and recording it in that dark room of his. How did he even have the time to create different answers for each caller? Remembering the end of the message, he sighed and added ' _doughnuts, bet_ ' to his mental checklist.  
  
"Come here," the bird let out a small chirp and it hopped onto Jason's outstretched hand. "Well, you're a smart one aren't ya?"  
  
"Let's figure out what you are first."

* * *

  
Carefully balancing the little creature in his palm, he made his way down to the basement of the apartment. He pressed on the concrete wall behind the boiler, revealing a small door and tunnel, leading to his own version of the Batcave. Waiting for the computer to start up, Jason let the bird run up and down his makeshift finger staircase.  
  
Setting it down onto the tabletop, he pulled up Google, "Brown bird with red chest...brown bird, red chest...and search."  
  
A robin.  
  
What a coincidence.  
  
Even moreso the almost unnoticeable yellow X, streaked across its breast.  
  
"..."  
  
The look in the bird's eyes was all too familiar.  
  
"Holy crap, you're Tim, aren't you."  
  
He was answered with a small tune and clacking on his keyboard.  
  
B-I-N-G-O  
  
Smart-ass bird.  
  
Jason began to pull out his phone.

D-O-N-T   Y-O-U  D-A-R-E  T-E-L-L  T-H-E-M  I  W-I-L-L  R-U-I-N  Y-O-U

Bird's eyes don't lie.

"Magic?"

I  T-H-I-N-K  S-O

"Who?"

N-O  I-D-E-A  I  W-O-K-E  U-P  I-N  A-N  A-L-L-E-Y-W-A-Y  L-I-K-E  T-H-I-S

"Alright, let's give you and I a wash and then I'll figure out what to do with you."


End file.
